The Memories Remain
by ImmortalLibra
Summary: Erik is now an Immortal living in modern London. When he starts working for a small company, he meets a woman, Immortal like himself. He finds himself drawn to her. However, a figure from his past appears and threatens his sanity and his life.
1. Prologue After the Opera Affair

**Prologue: After the Opera Affair**

Erik ran a hand over his hair, his entire frame shaking. Why was he so surprised at the turn of events? He honestly couldn't believe that he had dared hope that he would win Christine's heart. He remembered that night on the roof of the Opera Populaire, when that fool had pledged his love to her, promising things that Erik knew he couldn't deliver. Yet, he had hoped that his music, his precious music, would win her over.

Instead of winning the heart of the only woman he had dared loved, he had found himself hiding from the wild mobs that were chasing him. Now, he could never go back to the place he had dearly loved and had called home. He, once again, was forced to flee. Although Giry had gotten him a shabby little room in the very pits of Paris, he knew that he couldn't stay here. With his mask and the fact that he never ventured from this room, someone, sooner or later, would come snooping around, or they would guess his identity and call the authorities on him.

He looked at the beautiful dagger that had previously been laying on his bedside table. He picked it up, studying it closely. It was absolutely beautiful, with a gold hilt. A ruby the color of blood sat in the pommel, glimmering in the dim candle light. He refused to run anymore. If they wanted him dead, then they would get what they wanted. He would kill no more. Christine's words rang in his ears, _"This face holds no horror for me now. The true distortion lies in your soul."_

Well, there would be no more of that. He lifted the dagger above his head, aiming for his beating heart. He closed his eyes, seeing Christine's face in his mind once more. "Oh Christine," he whispered. He plunged the dagger straight into his chest. A low breath escaped him as his knees buckled. He was dead before he hit the floor.

* * *

A moan escaped Erik as he stirred. There was a loud ringing in his mind and an tingling sensation in his veins that was both pleasant and unpleasant. The memory of the dagger plunging into his chest caused his eyes to open in shock. He sat up and looked dumbly down at his chest, seeing nothing but a bloody rip where the dagger had entered his chest. However, the skin was perfect and unbroken.

Frowning, he put a hand on his chest and felt his heart beating. "How is this possible?"

"It's a bit much to take in, isn't it?"

Erik jumped to his feet at the sound of the unfamiliar male voice. It was thick with a Scottish accent. His eyes immediatly found the man who had spoken. He was a very pleasant looking man, with silky blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. His bright blue eyes were looking at him critically.

"Who are you?" Erik hissed, unsure of what to make of everything.

"I am Connor MacLeod, of the Clan MacLeod and you, my dear Phantom, are Immortal."


	2. Chapter One The New Job

A/N: I'm sorry for the prologue being so short. However, I hope this chapter makes up for it. In this chapter, Erik meets the spitfire, Jessica Boulivare, with whom he is supposed to be partners with on a project for their job. I decided to make their meeting from Jessi's point of view because of the fact that I thought it would be more interesting to see how Jessi reacts to her favorite character of all time, whom she believes to be entirely fiction.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Erik or Methos or anyone else from Highlander or Phantom of the Opera. I just own my wonderful Miss Jessi and Mike and any other original character, building, or place that pops up in my story.

* * *

Erik D. Picard glanced at his reflection in one of the many windows that he passed. A man who was tall, well built, well dressed, with dark eyes and a staggeringly handsome face stared back at him. A sigh escaped him. Ah, the miracle of stage makeup and prosthetics. He'd come so far from those long, lonely years of hiding in the basement of that opera house.

His long strides carried him to the front desk where a pleasant young woman with fake blonde hair and heavy makeup was sitting. Her eyes traveled up and down his figure and studied his face. Despite the fact that he was confident in his makeup abilities, he still became nervous when anyone studied his face.

She gave him a dazzling smile. "How may I help you, sir?"

"My name is Erik Picard and I'm reporting for my first day of work," he replied, his voice quiet.

The woman's eyes widened slightly at his voice which, even after all these years, never lost the musical quality that it had held when he dwelled under the Paris opera. "Ah, yes. The boss has been expecting you."

She led him to an elevator and pressed the button for the third floor. "After you get out of the elevator, you go to the left and down three doors. There, you'll need to knock on the door. Mr. Chambers is waiting for you." With that, the doors slid closed and Erik was on his own. With a sigh, he leaned back against the bar and studied his reflection once more.

* * *

Jessica Boulivare ran a hand through her short brown hair and sighed in frustration. "Why am I here, Mike? I mean, seriously? I can do this project by myself. It's not hard."

Mike Chambers, her boss, scowled at her. "Because I say that you need a partner, that's why. Picard'll be here any minute, so do _try_ and be nice."

She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a familiar buzzing in her mind and in her veins. She could automatically feel herself stiffen. An Immortal was nearby. As far as she knew, she was the only Immortal working here. That's why she had taken the job in the first place. Her sometimes roommate was Immortal, plus her best friend and her on again off again boyfriend was also Immortal. Her job was the one place that she could find some semblance of peace from the constant buzzing and the Game.

The buzzing grew stronger and soon there was a soft knock on the door. Jessi could feel her eyes widen and she almost groaned aloud. The last thing she wanted to do was work with another Immortal. The last two times that she had tried, she'd ended dating both. One of them had tried to take her head and the other she still occasionally dated.

Mike opened the door and greeted the tall man before him. The man, whom she assumed to be Picard, studied her with flashing amber eyes. The intensity of his gaze startled and unnerved her, but she didn't let it show. She returned his piercing gaze with one of her own.

"Erik Picard, this is Jessica Boulivare. She'll be working with you on the project that I mentioned to you on the phone."

"I don't need a partner." Picard's voice took her by surprise. She had never, in her almost three hundred years of life, heard anything quite like it. It was smoother than silk and held a musical note in it. She couldn't surpress a small shiver than ran down her spine at the sound of it. On top of that, with his sleek black hair, amber eyes, good build, and staggeringly handsome looks, he was one of the most attractive men she had ever met. His entire presence seemed to hold something dark and dangerous. She felt herself drawn to it, like a magnet. It was both unnerving and exciting.

Jessi quickly pulled herself together. "Seeing as neither of us wants to be partners, wouldn't it be more prudent to give this simple project to Picard to handle by himself?" Although she wasn't in the habit of wanting to hand off jobs where she could flex her creative muscles, she wanted to get as far away from this man as possible before something happened.

Mike slammed his hand on his desk, causing them both to flinch slightly. "No! I don't care if the two of you absolutely want to _kill_ one another! You _will_ work together or you will find yourself hunting for jobs!" His Irish accent grew thicker with every word and she inwardly grimaced, knowing that when that happened, Mike was absolutely at the end of his rope.

She sighed. "Fine, Mike. Whatever you say." With that, she turned on her heel and, making sure to avoid Picard, she stormed out of the office.

She felt restless and antsy. She checked her watch and groaned slightly. It was only eight thirty. There was no way that she could get away with taking an early lunch.

Jessi could feel the buzzing again and sighed once more. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Erik's tall form draw up to her. She turned suddenly, catching him off guard. She stood close to him, her face inches from his.

"You listen and you listen good, you try _anything_ and I will take your head. We will work at my place because my roommate is also Immortal. He can, and will, take your head if you manage to take mine. And you best get any romantic notions out of your head _now_. Got it?" she growled.

Amusement and surprise flashed briefly in his eyes before becoming emotionless once more. "You think a lot of yourself don't you?" he hissed and, with a smirk, sidestepped around her and strode off.

She ran a hand through her hair as she watched him leave. She had the feeling that there was more to this Erik character than met the eye. There was something about him that was dangerous and different, yet so familiar. It was as if she had met him before, as if she had heard his voice before. With a feeling of deep frustration, she shook her head and went to her office, deciding to figure it all out later.

* * *

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	3. Chapter Two Partners

**Chapter Two: Partners**

Erik frowned as he raised his hand on knocked on Jessica's door. He couldn't believe that he was here, at some other Immortal's apartment. He should have tried to convince her to come to his house. Not only was it larger than her flat, but he was more comfortable, being surrounded by his music instruments and his own things. Plus, he would be on his own "turf" as the people said in this day and time.

The door swung open and he found himself staring at the woman with whom he was to be working with. Her eyes were a bright, piercing, shade of blue-green, her brown hair was a blunt, chin length cut, and her skin was alabaster pale. He was shocked to see that she looked at least ten years younger and her skin seemed to be a lot fresher than when he had seen her earlier. He realized that she too must use makeup and prosthetics to help her fit into society.

Without saying a word, she stepped to the side to let him pass. The expression on her face was unreadable as her piercing eyes swept over him. He found himself feeling slightly unsettled by the intensity of her gaze, which was a new feeling for him. Very little unnerved or unsettled him. Shaking his head at himself, he peered around her apartment.

He found it larger than he had thought it would be, and very well funished. Apparently, she had very expensive tastes as everywhere he looked seemed to be made of warm mahagony or cool, frosted glass. Her couch and armchairs were made of plush crimson velvet and looked extrodinarly comfortable. He couldn't help but be somewhat reminded of the furnishings at the opera house.

"The place pass your inspection, sir?" the voice was male and held a slightly mocking tone to it.

His eyes found a man leaning against the door frame that led into the dining room. He was about Erik's height with eyes almost as dark as his black hair. His arms were loosely crossed against his chest and what looked like a draft beer was held loosely in one of his hands. He was studying Erik with an even stronger intensity than Jessica had been. He got the sense that this man was far older than Jessica was, far older than Erik himself was. There was something about this man that was vaguely familiar, although he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Adam, I hope that you haven't been drinking all my beer again," she admonished the lanky man.

A smile quirked at Adam's lips and his dark eyes left Erik and flicked to Jessica, the intensity vanishing to be replaced by a warm look. "Oooh, what are you going to do? Behead me?" he snickered and made his way to the couch where he threw himself down and proceeded to sprawl, putting his long legs on the antique coffee table and crossing his ankles. He looked from Jessica and Erik, clearly extremely comfortable. "And look, you're forgetting your manners. You haven't even introduced me to your new friend. Now what would your mother say, Jessie dear?"

She moved over to him and knocked his legs off of her table, which earned her a scowl. "My mother would hit you for putting your legs on the furniture. Erik Picard, this is Adam Pierson. Adam, this is Erik. Now that we're done with the introductions, may we started with our project now?" She cocked an eyebrow at Adam.

He just grinned and said, "Of course, Jessie dear. But, keep the door open. I may need to make sure that you two are playing nice." His tone was playful, but there was something in Adam's eyes that sent a chill up Erik's spine.

"You know that I always do." She smiled and leaned forward, gently patting Adam on the cheek.

He scowled at her, moving his head away, muttering something in a language that Erik didn't recognize. Jessie just laughed and straightened up. She motioned for Erik to follow her. "This way."

He followed her down a dimly lit hallway. He suddenly realized how easy it would be for him to take her head. Her back was turned to him, clearly offering him up a target. Suddenly, he felt eyes blazing into his back. He didn't have look around to know that Adam was watching him. He now understood why Jessica had chosen to work on the project at her place. It was safer for her, and it was probably to make Adam feel better. They seemed very close. Erik wondered if they were lovers or something, but then shrugged the thought away. He didn't care about this girl's love life. He was here to work with her on some project for their job. The sooner that they were done, the better.

She stopped suddenly and opened a door. She made a motion for him to go first. When she did, the robe that she had been wearing moved slightly. He noticed that she was wearing her sword. Hmm. She wasn't as stupid as he had thought she was.

She noticed him studying her sword and gave him a little smile. "What? You think that I would go unarmed in my own house with a stranger in my presence? Obviously, monsieur, you are not as bright as I had hoped." Her voice held the slightest trace of a French accent when she spoke those words.

He didn't say anything. He just strode past into her and into the room. He stopped in his tracks, shocked at what he saw. There was a huge mahogany desk sitting in a very well lit corner, several swords in display cases on the walls, shelves and shelves full of books, and posters of musicals on the wall. On in particular caught his attention. It was the poster to the original production of _Phantom of the Opera_, long before Andrew Lloyd Webber had come along and made it into what it was today. His eyes slowly crawled over the posters next to them. All of them seemed to be from _Phantom of the Opera_ in some shape or form. A memory surfaced and he couldn't help but fall into a flashback.

_"What is this?" Erik hissed, turning to face Connor, his eyes flashing dangerously._

_ Connor MacLeod, his Immortal teacher and only friend, raised his eyebrows and said, in the most innocent of voices, "It's a movie, my old friend. I told you that we were going to see one. It's about time that you got out and about for a while._

_ "I know what it __**is**__. I meant, what are we doing here? Why __**this**__ movie?" his voice was a low growl._

_ Connor laughed. "I thought that you may like the new prospective on your story, my friend. Or, at least, I had assumed you would." He clapped Erik on the back, still grinning from ear to ear. "Come along, my dear phantom. It won't hurt you to watch it. Lon Chaney is a good actor and I hear he is particularly good as the Phantom." With that, his blue eyes twinkling merrily, he went into the theater with Erik, clearly fuming, on his heels._

_ Later, they emerged outside. Erik was wearing a scowl and his amber eyes were flashing dangerously. He was clearly not in a mood to be messed with. Connor clapped him on the back. "What do you think?"_

_ "It was terrible," he growled. "She looked nothing like Christine and the fool that played that boy was absolutely horrible." Even after all those years, he had still been unable to say the Vicomte's name._

_ Connor laughed. "What did you think about Chaney?"_

_ "He was decent," was all that Erik grunted before striding off, his friend's laughter ringing in his ears._

* * *

Jessie looked up at tall man who was currently blocking the way into her study. Her eyes flicked from his face, to the poster that he was staring at. He was clearly remembering something and, from the dangerous look in his eyes, it wasn't a very happy memory.

"I take it that you're not a fan?"

He blinked and looked from the poster to her. His eyebrows knitted together. "Excuse me?"

She nodded her head towards the poster that he had been staring at. "I'm just going to assume from the murderous look that you were giving that poster that you are _not_ a _Phantom of the Opera_ fan?"

He grunted, his face becoming an emotionless mask. He choose not to answer her, instead striding across the room and gracefully throwing himself into one of the chairs. She sighed and shook her head. Men! What was with them?


End file.
